


A Bone Snapping

by soncnica



Series: kosti!verse [4]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Older Jared, POV Jensen, Psychologist Jared, Running Away, Suicidal Thoughts, Younger Jensen, mention of Jensen's brother, not really a summer camp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-19
Updated: 2015-08-19
Packaged: 2018-04-15 13:54:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4609239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soncnica/pseuds/soncnica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared hasn't been the psychologist at Camp Gamble long. He always wanted to work with kids - troubled kids - but now it looks like he might be in over his head. Jensen is 16, Jared is 26.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Bone Snapping

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: I seriously only own the grammar/spelling mistakes. Everything else is NOT MINE! ALL IS FICTION.
> 
> PLEASE READ: After a comment I received on a story in this verse, I remembered that I forgot to put an EXTRA WARNING on this verse, so here it is:
> 
> I, and everyone in the story, are very much aware that what needs to be done in cases like these is call the proper authorities and report the parents.  
> But that being said, as you may have noticed I'm writing this from Jared's and Jensen's POV and no one else's in the story. And as you also may have noticed I'm writing this at snail pace, as in, I'm writing without any time skips or anything like that. So ... you see where I'm going with this!? I can't say what someone else in the story is doing or what will happen next from someone else's perspective. I think everyone reading this will just have to trust me.  
> Thank you! And please if you aren't okay with any of this, please stop reading as I don't want to hurt anyone. That is not the intent of this story.  
> Thank you!

 

He's sweating, his skin feels hot and clammy and too tight on his bones, itchy in places he can't scratch. His clothes are drenched and if he'd get up from the bed right now, people would think he pissed himself. Which he's pretty sure he didn't, but he still slides his hand down to his crotch to feel it. No, just sweat. Good, good.

He slept in the shrink's cabin last night; in a warm soft bed, surrounded by a feel of safety so goddamn strong he'd weep if he was a pussy, but... 'safe' was something so unknown to him that when the feeling spread through his veins, it just felt so good. So warm.

To sleep.

Safe, without the constant fear of his parents walking into his room to scream at him that he is the devils son and thus doesn't deserve to sleep at all.

He sighs into the pillow and clutches the fabric until his knuckles turn white. He hadn't felt like that since... too long. Maybe since he was a baby. Or maybe since never, really.

But he's in his own bed now, lying on a lumpy mattress that had probably been used more times than he can imagine, with three more guys snoring away beside him.

He doesn't feel safe here, doesn't feel warm.

He feels trapped. He doesn't know these boys. He doesn't know what they're capable of, but by the looks in their eyes whenever he looks at them... they're capable of a lot. But it's okay, he probably had worse through his life than whatever these guys can cook up. He beat up one of them once, he can beat them again.

He still feels like he's gonna explode in this darkness and sound, though.

He can feel his heartbeat in his throat go miles per hour, can feel sweat run and tickle down his back, down his spine, and through the loud snores, he can hear his brother's voice whisper: "Jensen, buddy, I don't know how to help you. Don't know what to do."

Joshua had looked sad that day. So sad Jensen would be able to cut the sadness with a knife, if he would've been allowed to handle a knife in his brother's presence.

He loves his brother, loves him so much it feels strange to him that he can love someone who shares the same genes and blood with the people who despise him, but he does. Joshua is the only reason why he's still alive, because Josh had stopped that knife so many times, stopped those pills, stopped him from drowning so many times, he can't even count anymore. He had healed his wounds so many times and he owes him everything. His brother is the only reason his body and brain are still working and aren't permanently lost in pain and medication.

But he knows Joshua is just as lost and helpless as he is. He knows his brother doesn't know how to deal with their parents, all the people, all the doctors. He knows Joshua doesn't know what to do, how to fight, how to help him get away, doesn't know what the fuck to do.

He knows this. He knows Josh would do anything to help, if he just knew how and if their parents didn't hold things against him too. They are both fucked up and sentenced to this life. He knows this, but still... he won't give up. Won't give in. For Josh if not for himself. He owes him at least one chance of maybe getting free from their parents. If Josh gave him this camp, then he can at least try.

So the very last words Joshua had said to him when finally getting their parents to let him go to this camp, were "Jensen, buddy..." and the look in his eyes said "get help, for Chrissake Jens, ask for help, do anything to get away."

He still doesn't know what exactly Josh did, that made their parents let him go to this camp, because fucking God knows they never let him out of their sight, but his brother was limping a little when he told him where he was going. He had never asked and he thinks that Josh would never tell anyways.

And then, that was that. Well, he got a nice beating from his father and some very creative insults from his mother as a goodbye gift - some kids get chocolate and a warm hug, he thinks - but he could deal with those, because he had his brother's words for comfort to hold on to, while his father's belt made his back bleed and his mother's words made his heart bleed.

-:-

He turns on his back to stare at the ceiling. It had been nice sleeping in Jared's cabin, quiet ... and the guy didn't try to hurt him, he talked a lot, but nothing hurtful, which was... good. A first for him. Well except for his brother, he never said a hurtful word to him. But everyone else... fuck 'em.

So maybe he can trust Jared?

Maybe?

The guy'd already seen him, seen his back and all the scars, seen the pain, fuck he'd seen him cry like a little baby, seen him weak, and he never tried to hurt him with that. Not with his hands nor with his words.

But people can be vicious. Lure you in with nice words and cookies and puppies and gentle touches and then they strike faster than a snake.

But Josh said to get help. To seek a way out.

Maybe Jared?

Maybe he can help?

What's the worst that can happen, really? His parents and all the people around him had already stripped him bare so... what could Jared possibly do worse than what everyone else had already done?

Kill him? Because that's all there still is to do, but he would much rather die of his own hand thank you very much.

But the guy wouldn't do that, because he's pretty sure there's some shrink code of not killing kids.

Right?

He sighs just as Lucas - the kid on his left - snorts and turns around.

He wants to run away. Just go. Somewhere. Out into the woods. Just go, God, just go and get himself lost and live in a cave or something, just go away from people and the world that had done nothing else to him but cut him and bleed him.

This camp is his perfect opportunity for that. Maybe... maybe that's what Joshua had meant. Just run. Get away and not like ask someone for help, because that had never ever turned the way they both wanted. They had asked, pleaded, cried and fought doctors to listen to them, don't give them any more meds, because it's not them who are sick, but their parents, but no one listened, no one cared. No one stopped to see and hear their scars and their words. Their parents' words were just too strong to beat with little children voices.

He twists his head towards the window. He won't cry.

It would be so easy to run and go into that forest; its dark, no one would see him, no one would start missing him until breakfast if at all, and he could get so far until then.

So far from everyone. So far from himself.

He's sweating so hard he's going to drown in it, if he won't stop soon. And he's thirsty, his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.

He uncovers himself and gets up from the bed, silent as a mouse and no one even stirs when he opens and closes the cabins door.

He will go. Get away and cease to exist.

He will, because the darkness out there in the woods is like a living, breathing thing inviting him to come, come, come away with me, I'll make you disappear. Won't hurt you.

-:-

The path he takes is all pebbles and pine needles, crunching and soft beneath his bare feet and he's still sweating, the sweat running into his eyes and when he brushes it away, he notices that his hair is soaking wet too.

It's not raining. Is it?

Why is he sweating so badly? What's happening to him? He can't be sick, he just can't. He doesn't wanna be forced to bed and on more medication. He can't...

The moon is out tonight, which makes his walk better, makes him see where he's stepping, makes him take all the right turns, makes him avoid all the "night-watchers" that walk around the camp, checking if all is okay.

Even if everyone told him time and time again that he's as stupid as they come and then some, and the pills he had to take for a problem he did not have numbed his mind throughout the years, he knows deep down that he's as smart as a freaking MENSA member and he has studied the layout of the camp and the rotation and the paths of the "night-watchers", knows this place better than the place knows itself.

And it's like a bone snapping somewhere deep inside of him… he's going to get away. Or die trying.

**The End (but more to come)**


End file.
